Life In Twenty One Orbits
by ThaAnT-EileanBreagha
Summary: There are infinite choices with infinite possibilities. My life was one of the most blessed that I could've imagined, yet by the end it was one of the many tragedies that the First Wizarding War had wrought. There is nothing that I had the power to change, but it's only human nature to wish that we'd had each other for at least one more day. This is my small slice of infinity.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Nothing I write here belongs to me, apart from original characters and some plot material. The rest (including the dialogue from a couple of characters) belongs to J K Rowling. I am not writing this for any monetary gain or otherwise. This disclaimer applies to the entirety of this story.

The Life and Times of Catriona Lucille Macleod

* * *

Dedicated to the ones I love, as these things so often are:

To my wonderful parents, For being everything I'd ever want to be and for the years we had together.

To my brother, We drove each other crazy not too long ago.

Pour ma grand-mère, Merci pour ton amour et ton courage. Si tu étais allé à Hogwarts, tu aurais été une Gryffindor.

To Alice, For always being there. A true Hufflepuff if ever there was one.

To my unwavering Gryffindors, Truer lions have never been found.

To Sirius, Of all people, I know I needn't say anything, but this once I think you might need to hear it: be strong.

In these times, nothing is certain and everything seems all the more precious for it. I can't pretend to know what life will throw at us, nor if life will even continue to exist for any of us, but in this I hope a small piece of us will survive the tide of time. Until recent months I'd never really considered dying, not really. (I had no reason to as far as I could tell.) And I despair at the thought of leaving all of the possibilities behind: no hope of ever painting that birdhouse with my grandma; not having my first Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean or my first electricity bill; missing the chances to dance in the rain just for the hell of it; no more tickling my brother into fits; never being able to give my baby a raspberry; no more laughs; no more cries; no more hugs; no more kisses; no more sighs; no more dreams; -

Well, I guess I'll leave you to imagine the rest. Hopefully we will all live to see dreams come to life.

Always yours,  
Trina

* * *

Author's Note:  
Sorry paragraphing isn't working so I put dedications in one line each instead of a ~letter format.  
Will be in standard form from now on with only a couple exceptions, so will include description and dialogue etc.  
Bear with me, I don't like Author's Notes (so this'll be one of the few) and I often take too long updating. Hope you enjoy it!


	2. Chapter I: Beginnings

It's hard to say when our story began, for there were so many beginnings: my first breath; my first step; my first heartbreak; my first friends; my first fight; my first exam; my first duel; my first scrape with certain death. As you can imagine, the list goes on. But it would be pretty unfair of me to drag you through my entire life, for if I weren't born then none of this would ever have come to pass. So I guess I'll breeze past the boring stuff to the next best part: the start of the rest of my life.

My younger years were like the majority of children in the world. I was born on the spring equinox of 1960, the 20th of March, and later christened as Catriona Lucille Macleod. I whiled away my youth with my family in the small village of Hoegabost in Point, a peninsula in the Isle of Lewis of the Western Isles of Scotland. I was the youngest of two, my brother Craig being 7 years older than, and we lived with our parents Gordon and Annette. My dad worked in a local construction company while my mum worked at a florists in London, but the thing that really set them apart was that my mum was a witch and the florists was in Diagon Alley where she apparated to every week.

My mum had been raised in the north of France, where my grand-mère still lives, and attended the wizarding school of Beauxbatons. It was when my mum met my dad on holiday in the Highlands of Scotland that her fate was sealed and she moved to the isolated, if lovely, outer reaches of Scotland. So every summer we would visit my grand-mère for a month, while the rest of the year would be spent at school or scampering around the island, in my case.

So, having lived my entire life with a witch, it came as no surprise to us when Craig got his Hogwarts letter, and oh was I jealous. Much as I love the Western Isles, it _was_ an island and more than once I felt boxed in and claustrophobic. Then to have my brother leave for boarding school where he would write me about how he was taught by ghosts and turned mice into goblets for exams only worsened the feeling of being left behind. I couldn't wait to learn spells and have my own wand. I couldn't wait to have friends who knew about magic and study the laws of transfiguration together. I couldn't wait to have grand adventures like my brother had and find all the secret passageways of the castle; heck, I couldn't wait to live in a castle! Instead, I spent the next 7 years waiting until the day where I would begin to learn how to control my magic and prevent my underage magic - there are only so many times that a girl can find her way up to the roof of her house before people start thinking you're weird.

It's therefore safe to say that my first day at Hogwarts was perhaps one of the best days of my life.

"Have you got your pyjamas?"

"Yes."

"Have you got your telescope?"

Sigh. "Yes."

"Books?"

"Yes, both textbooks _and_ muggle."

"Owl treats? Don't want Tilly refusing to deliver your letters to us." Tilly was my wonderful little barn owl named after Tilly Toke, who saved several muggles from an unexpected Common Welsh Green dragon attack.

"Muuum, yes, I've got them. _And_ my inkwells, _and_ my hairbrush, _and_ my cauldron. Can I please, please, please find a compartment now?" I asked exasperatedly, like only an eleven-year-old could, unable to stop myself from bouncing eagerly on the balls of my feet.

My dad tried to disguise his laughter at our antics with a gruff cough. My mum - who had spent the last ten minutes on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters frowning down at me worriedly, patting down my red-brown hair every time she looked at it and interrogating me on the contents of my well-worn trunk (it used to be hers) - looked up at my dad with the quelling look she'd honed from her many years of marriage and parenthood, only this time she looked more stressed than dangerous. Of course, my dad only grinned at her teasingly and pulled her, albeit unwillingly, into his side.

"Don't worry, Annette, I'm sure Trina's got everything she needs," Dad reassured my mum with a quick wink to me on the side, "she's been packed for over a week and if there is, by some miracle, something left behind, then we can just owl it to her."

Mum cast another frazzled look to where I stood at their side on the crowded stone platform, every now and then moving my trolley when the crowd of similarly frazzled wizarding families would occasionally bump into it. "But-"

"As I said, she'll be fine," Dad said firmly. "Trina's a fair sight more organised than Craig will ever be and even he managed not to forget anything on his first trip to Hogwarts. Now," he said, turning to me and grabbing my trolley, "we'd better get out of the way before we get bowled over by this lot."

And so we followed my dad as he slowly made his was with my trolley through the hustle and bustle of the platform, my mum following in his wake with a soft hand resting on my shoulder - more for her sake than mine, I thought - and a look of resignation on her lovely face. As my dad manoeuvred towards the scarlet steam engine gleaming between breaks in the throng, occasionally doing double-takes at some of the more outrageous muggle fashion choices he saw, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the train in front of us. It was so red and so bright that it looked as if it was polished everyday, with big golden letters spelling "Hogwarts Express" mounted on its face and steam lazily floating up from its chimney in the cool September morning air. Hundreds of students in all manners of clothing were hauling their luggage up the steps into the many carriages of the steam engine. Owls hooted and cats yowled as they were jostled in the excitement of the platform, and kids stuck their heads out the windows of their compartments as they eagerly said their last to the anxious parents and tearful younger siblings. Finally, I wasn't the teary little sister, trying to look brave with the wobbly lips. Finally, I wasn't the one being left behind. Finally, it was me who was going on the adventure!

As if sensing where my thoughts were leading me, I felt my mum squeeze my shoulder. I glanced up at her and smiled, trying to hide my excitement as she smiled a small smile back at me. My family always remarked on how similar I was to my dad, but my mum and the resemblance between my mum and I was still pretty striking. While I had my dad's green eyes, the classic Macleod wavy red-brown hair and skin so fair that it could burn in winter (if there was ever enough sun in a Scottish winter), I still had my mum's small build, her heart-shaped face and dainty features that unfortunately still make me look like a doll.

My dad hefted up my trunk into the overhead rack of an empty compartment two-thirds of the way down the train and my mum placed Tilly's cage on the bench, before they came back out and stood in front of me on the platform. The train whistled and we heard Tilly's hoot of surprise through the open window.

"Well, I think that's our cue to get out of your hair," my dad said lightly, with the same expression as he had when Craig left for the first time - as if he was steeling himself for the inevitable.

"You be good now, and write to us every week, so we know how you're getting on," my mum said sternly, bending slightly at the waist as she patted down my hair again before it bounced right back into place. "If you ever need help with something, or directions to potions, we're just an owl away."

"Thanks, Mum," I murmured into her shoulder, her blonde hair obscuring my face from the platform behind her. Which is probably just as well because, now that it had come to it, I started to feel the telltale prickling of tears at the corners of my eyes and the tight constriction of my throat. The feeling only got worse as she rubbed my back. "I promise."

I jumped back from my mum at the sound of the doors to the compartments closing and hurriedly threw myself into my dad's arms for one last bear hug before kissing his cheek and leaping through the carriage door. Flying to the window of my compartment, I stuck my head out as the Hogwarts Express jolted into motion and waved wildly at my parents. "Bye, I'll miss you!" I yelled as the train steadily accelerated away from them.

"Bye Trina," my dad called, waving back.

"Have fun!" came my mum, at my dad's side.

I waved at them until my muscles started to ache and I couldn't see them any longer.

With a shaky sigh, I slid the window shut and sat back in the seat beside it. I was just stroking Tilly's dusky brown feathers as she nibbled my finger in comfort when a few minutes later the door to my compartment slid open.

A thin boy in robes that had seen better days and an uncertain expression stood in the doorway. "Excuse me," he said quietly, "is anyone else sitting here?"

"No, no, take a seat!" He smiled gratefully and I took his toad from him as he lifted his trunk into the luggage rack. The letters "R. J. Lupin" gleamed dimly on the wood. "What does the R stand for?" I asked as I hand him back his struggling pet.

He looked surprised for a moment before an understanding smile crosses his tired, pale face. "Remus."

"I'm Catriona Macleod, pleased to meet you," I said, returning his smile and sticking out my hand. "But just call me Trina, everyone else does," I continue as Remus shakes my hand. "Are you a first year, too?"

"Yeah, are you? You're the first person I've met today," he said after I nodded, flicking his light brown hair out of his face. "I was a bit scared I'd end up sitting alone or something." He sat down opposite me, by the window.

"That's a relief, I thought I'd be the only one who felt that way," I confessed with a sheepish grin. "I live up in the Outer Hebrides so it's pretty isolated and until now I'd never met any wizarding kids other than my brother - we don't go to Diagon Alley often and my mum only knows french wizarding families."

"Really?" Remus exclaimed, his eyebrows inching upwards a little. "I've met a few but we've not talked since then. I live in a village near Birmingham with my parents but I was home-schooled. Is your mum French then? You don't seem to have the accent?"

"No I haven't, much to my grand-mère's disappointment," I laughed. "Yeah, my mum's french but she moved here a couple years after school and when you're born in Scotland then there's no competition - you're going to sound Scottish," I said with a shrug of my shoulders. "So what house are you-"

I was cut-off, however, by the rough opening of our compartment door.

"Sorry, but can we sit here? We didn't like the people in our previous compartment," a girl with fiery red hair asked, her face still pinched in annoyance. A lanky boy with inky hair and sallow skin stood a bit behind her.

Casting a quick glance in askance to Remus, I nodded and beckoned her in. "Of course, no problem."

"Thanks," said the girl gratefully. "I'm Lily Evans and this is Severus Snape. Are you first years, too?"

Remus and I exchanged delighted smiles, and so the the four of us talked the rest of the train ride away, only pausing to stuff our faces with the sweets that Lily and I'd bought from the food trolley.

By the time the Hogwarts Express started to slow down and pull into Hogsmeade station, the fields outside had long-since been hidden from us by the darkness outside and the corridors had become busy with the students hurrying back to their compartments to gather forgotten wizarding hats and to meet up with their friends. The four of us had already changed into our robes as the steam engine eased to a halt and so, after tidying up our sweet wrappers, we made our way out into the bustling corridor and into the night. The tide of the older students carried us to the end of the platform, where a great booming voice could be heard calling, "Firs' years, firs' years, over here!"

Remus and I followed the other two as they talked together in hushed, excited voices. "Are you nervous?" I asked quietly, daring a quick glance up at Remus' lightly scarred face.

"Yes," he admitted, even more quietly. He shot a quick look at Severus before turning back to me. "But we shouldn't worry, the worst that can happen is that we get sorted into Slytherin, but between us I don't think that's going to happen."

I tried to smile more confidently but somehow I didn't quite manage it.

When all the first years surrounded the giant, hairy man where he stood under the oil lamp at the corner of the station, we started making our way through the trees towards what looked to be a lake in the distance. We couldn't see the older students anymore; in fact, we couldn't see much of anything anymore. The group of us slipped and slid on the muddy ground and moist rocks, occasionally grabbing on to each other as we made our way steadily downhill towards the water. Bending to avoid a wayward branch, Remus and I emerged onto the bank of what we would later learn was called the Black Lake, and in the dim light of the moon it certainly lived up to its name. The only thing that disturbed the otherwise still, gleaming waters of the lake was the slight bobbing movement of the little boats lying half on the little beach, half in the water.

"Four ter a boat, and mind yer don' fall in," Hagrid called from the front of the group. "I shouldna think yer don' wanna arrive ter the Sortin' ceremony soppin' wet, do yer?"

On the walk to the shore we'd lost sight of Lily and Severus, so Remus and I clambered into the first boat we saw with enough space. When we'd clambered in and managed to sit down without falling on our faces or, worse, in the lake, we saw upon closer inspection that we shared the little boat with two other boys. One had wild jet black hair, hazel eyes and a face that, for some reason you couldn't quite identify, made you think he was constantly up to some sort of mischief. The other boy also had black hair but it was longer and more well-tamed, with grey eyes, skin just a few shades darker than mine and the body language that exuded both confidence and ingrained elegance, even for an eleven-year-old boy. You wouldn't think it from the eyes though: no matter what we were trying to project on the outside, our eyes still betrayed the excited nerves and anxiety roiling on the inside.

"Hi, I'm Sirius and this is James," said the second boy with the grey eyes, gesturing to the other boy as he casually waved hello.

"Remus and Catriona," came from beside me, Remus grinning at the others in return.

I made a soft sound of surprise and grabbed Sirius' shoulder for support as I lurched forward with the movement of the boat. "But just call me Trina," I said, laughing at myself as I regained my balance and smiled in apology to Sirius. "You don't think there's anything underneath us, is there?" I asked with a furtive look at the pitch black beneath us.

"Yeah," exclaimed James, leaning towards us eagerly. "There are merpeople and Grindylows and a Giant Squid, to name a few."

"Just look, yer abou' ter get yer firs' look at Hogwarts," came Hagrid's voice from the head of the flock of boats. And so he was right.

Hogwarts was everything I'd ever dreamed of and more, there had been no way Craig's letters could ever have done it justice. A mass of towers and spires, littered with glittering windows filled with golden light, it was the most beautiful and enchanting place I'd ever seen. To think that I was going to live there for seven years ...

I tore my eyes away from the castle to look questioningly at the others. "A Giant Squid?" I asked hesitantly, almost not wanting to hear the answer.

"Didn't you know?" Sirius joined James in hunching forwards, as if we were telling scary stories around a crackling bonfire. "It's been alive for hundreds of years, lurking under the surface of the Great Lake. Over winter and the holidays it survives on Grindylows and other creatures, but what it _really_ craves is the taste of wizards," he said with relish, looking significantly from me to the still waters beyond. "So every year, it bides its time, waiting patiently until finally a student stupidly paddles in the lake during the summer. Or for when a first year falls into the lake on the trip to the castle." Here he paused. "Then it snatches your struggling body, the water silencing your desperate screams for help, and pulls you down into the fathomless depths of the lake, never to be seen again. Or so they s- Ouch!"

Sirius was clutching his head from where a low-hanging branch had clipped him as we entered an inlet in the cliff-face beneath Hogwarts. Any and all tension was broken as we all burst out into gales of laughter at his expense. Sirius glared mutinously at the offending branch, gruffly rubbing the spot where he'd been hit.

"Serves you right," I wheezed between bouts of mirth. "You should've been listening to Hagrid instead of trying to scare us. As if Hogwarts would let a first-year-eating monster live on its grounds."

Remus was clutching his stomach as he was the first to climb out of our docked boat. "I heard it ate bread like a duck and likes to be tickled."

Sirius shrugged with a lopsided smile on his somewhat abashed face. "Eh, it was worth a try."

"Was it, mate?" James asked, elbowing Sirius' side and wiping tears off his face as we traipsed our way up the stone steps to the top of the cliff. "You look a little worse for wear."

Sirius promptly dropped his hand and scowled at his friend before cracking and breaking into a grudging grin. "Whatever," he muttered.

If it hadn't been for the branch hitting him, though, I would've been more annoyed at him for trying to scare me on my very first day here. We spent the rest of the way up to the castle ribbing him, constantly asking him to tell us more about Hogwarts' evil spirits and flesh-eating owls to then yell at him to duck and watch out for imaginary trees and wayward bats. He took it well, even pretending to get hit by these invisible objects and every so often silently yelping in pain, until at last we came to the great oak doors of the castle.

Hagrid knocked three times on the huge door, his dustbin-sized hands booming against the ancient wood. Not one of us made a sound as we waited with bated breathed for something to happen. Finally, the doors opened inwards and in the glow of the light that streamed out of the Entrance Hall beyond stood a solitary witch. She was tall and slim in emerald green robes, with square spectacles, green eyes and black hair scraped into a severe bun under her pointed hat. You just knew from your first glimpse of this lady that she wasn't one to cross.

'The firs'-years, Professor McGonagall,"said Hagrid.

"Thank you Hagrid, I will take them from here," said Professor McGonagall, before turning her attention to the first years. "If you would please follow me." It was more an order than a question.

Dutifully, we followed her into the warmth of the Entrance Hall and gazed wide-eyed around us. There was a great marble staircase that swept upwards, with the walls of the upper floor littered with talking portraits and moving landscapes. Looking up, you couldn't see the ceiling, as the light from the torches in sconces mounted on the walls couldn't reach high enough to illuminate it. There was an entrance on either side of the staircase, but instead of entering either of them or the great doors leading to what could only be a grand room of some sort, we were led through a different set of doors adjacent to the larger ones, to a side room.

"Welcome to Hogwarts,' began Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sirius stiffen as though he had an icy metal rod down his back, and the skin around his eyes tightened tensely. "Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Here, her eyes flickered to a girl with a squint tie and a boy with a partially upturned collar, before lingering on James' untameable hair. I discretely tried to tuck in my shirt again, it had been crinkling up all day.

"I will return when we are ready for you," continued Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

As soon as she had left the room, excited chatter and rustling of clothes immediately broke out as first years helped their new friends straighten themselves out and exchanged theories on what exactly the Sorting Ceremony would entail. Sirius, however, was conspicuously silent, and remained just as tense as he had been during McGonagall's speech.

"Sirius," I murmured softly, hesitant to disturb him as he stared fixedly at the wall in front of us, "Are you alright?"

Sirius jerked a little, as if he'd just managed to stop himself from jumping out of his skin, and abruptly turned to face me in his surprise. "Hmm, what? Yeah, yeah, fine," he said half-heartedly, grinning weakly under my scrutiny.

"If this is about the Sorting," I began softly, sensing that he didn't want to be overheard, "then you shouldn't worry about it, they wouldn't give us something impossible to do before our first classes even start."

Sirius looked down at me sharply, as though surprised that I'd known what he was thinking. "It- It's not that, exactly, I know what to expect," he said hesitantly, glancing at Remus and James to make sure they were still too busy talking to pay us any attention. "I just don't want to be in Slytherin," he said in such a rush that I barely managed to understand him.

"Then, if it's a choice, don't choose Slytherin," I said slowly. "My brother made it sound as if the Sorting didn't force you into something against your will, and personally I can't see a school like Hogwarts forcing you into a house that you hate or doesn't suit you; not if you're going to be living in that house for the next seven years."

His eyebrows puckered a bit in surprise. "But I don't have a choice, my family-"

"Isn't you," I inserted firmly. "They're not here to make your decisions for you and they certainly aren't studying here for the rest of your Hogwarts. Don't make yourself miserable when you have the mind and the willpower to make your own decisions. They might yell at you and ground you, but if you believe that it'd be worth it, then don't choose Slytherin. Not to underestimate your internal struggle or anything," I jokingly added with a small smile, trying to break the tension.

Sirius, still looking surprised, smiled mechanically and laughed as if he was on auto-pilot, but I didn't take it personally. It was easy to say what I'd just said as an outsider looking in (albeit looking in on what only a couple of Sirius' words had spelled out for me) and give vague advice. But I knew that if it was a choice between what I wanted and what my parents wanted then I'd pulling my hair out trying to figure out how not to make my parents hate me.

Before either of us could say anything more on the matter, Professor McGonagall had returned and announced that the ceremony was about to start. Following her in silence and suffering under a resurgence of nerves, I made my way with the sea of robed first years through the grand wooden doors from earlier into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was magnificent, there was no other word for it. Four long wooden tables stretched almost the length of the room, stopping near the foot of what could only be the staff Head table that ran perpendicular to the students' tables. All of these were covered in gleaming silverware that glinted in the candlelight, and hundreds of students craned to get a better look at our procession of black as we kept pace with Professor McGonagall. Above us all were countless candles that floated in the air and beyond them was a cloudy sky illuminated in the silvery light of the moon, as though there was no roof above us but the night sky. When we had reached the Head table, McGonagall instructed us to stand in a line with our backs to the table as she set down a stool for all to see, on top of which she placed a rag that looked like a tatty old hat. That tatty old hat, however, seemed to have a singing voice.

Oh, when the walls were young and the halls were new,

Our students numbered little more than few.

Now here we are, hundreds of years and many lifetimes past,

And on once again the Sorting must proceed as did the last.

Are you of Gryffindor stock,

Bold and brash and true.

Or those of dear Hufflepuff's lot,

Loyalty and hard work being nothing new.

Perhaps you are after Ravenclaw's heart,

Who valued intelligence and wit over all.

Yet maybe Slytherin is where you belong,

Where ambition and cunning answers your spirit's call.

Well don't dither, put me on,

For I'm the Sorting Hat and shall see where you belong!

It was the thunder of applause that drew me out of my reverie and I hurriedly joined in the applause. I had grown up in a somewhat magical household, yes, but it wasn't often that I came across a talking, singing hat. Frankly, I was just relieved that we weren't duelling each other or participating in some other test of our (non-existent) magical prowess.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Aubrey, Bertram."

A boy with a shock of blonde-brown hair shakily walked up to the stool and cautiously placed the hat on his head. Though none of us could hear exactly what it was saying, the hat seemed to hmm and hum to itself as if debating with itself on where to put him, before suddenly crying, "Hufflepuff!"

The table second from the right broke out into cheers and warm applause, the other houses politely clapping too, and Bertram Aubrey hastily sat down at their table with a relieved smile on his face.

"Avery, Larson."

"Slytherin!"

The table on the far left respectfully applauded the tall, brown-haired boy as he stalked over to his housemates.

"Barker, Tom."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Boyd, Suzette."

"Ravenclaw!"

The table on the far right broke out into noise and the little blonde girl hurried over to her new house.

"Black, Sirius."

"Good luck," I whispered as Sirius passed me, a determined look set on his face.

However, the hat had barely touched his hair let alone his head before it cried, "Gryffindor!"

There was a split second of surprise that crossed the faces of the students sitting at the table of red and gold before they burst into catcalls and enthusiastic applause, and Sirius plastered a confident grin to his relieved face as he swaggered to one of the free benches along the Gryffindor table. Slytherin was conspicuously absent in its applause, muttering incredulously to themselves and shooting mutinous glances in Sirius'direction. They sure seemed to have wanted him for themselves, I wondered silently.

"Catchglove, Greta."

"Slytherin."

"Crane, Cessel."

"Ravenclaw."

"Evans, Lily."

"Gryffindor!"

"Grant, Laura."

"Ravenclaw!"

"Harper, Arnold."

"Ravenclaw!"

"Hurst, Hexia."

"Slytherin!"

"Lupin, Remus."

I caught Remus' eye as he passed and gave him an encouraging smile which he shakily returned before he found his way to the worn leather Sorting Hat.

"Gryffindor!"

"McKinnon, Marlene."

"Gryffindor!"

"Macdonald, Mary."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Macleod, Catriona."

With legs that tremoured with each step, I walked carefully to the stool and sat down on the creaking wood. The hat was large enough to fit my dad's head and slipped down my face to rest against the bridge of my nose, obscuring the sea of students from my vision - the one perk to all of this Sorting business.

"Hmm, not sorted one of you before," came a contemplative voice in my ear and I just managed to restrain myself from starting at the sound. "Let me see, you are ambitious but not cunning and wouldn't last long in Slytherin. You are bright and apply yourself to your classes, but don't study more than necessary, so I don't believe Ravenclaw is the place for you. Well, well, you are driven and very hardworking - once your mind is set then nothing can sway you from your task until it's done. Unwaveringly loyal to those you care for, yet you don't easily forget those who've wronged you. But I see stubbornness and determination as well as loyalty that make you brave, and you value chivalry and respect for everyone. Hmm, but where to put you? Hufflepuff or Gryffindor ... Ah you like Gryffindor I see. Are you sure? It'll help you come out of your shell to be sure, but there is more to a house than friendship; your house is what should help you become your better self at the end of the day and -"

I shook my head decisively - Gryffindor sounded like the place for me. I wanted to be loyal and brave and more confident.

"Well, as long as you're certain, it'll have to be ... Gryffindor!"

With a quick sigh of relief, I swiftly placed the Sorting Hat back down on the rickety stool and quickly made my way towards my friends as the Gryffindors clapped for me. I muttered a quick thanks with a grateful grin as Lily and Remus budged up to make room for me between them on the bench, opposite Sirius who gave me a thumbs up. I smiled excitedly back.

And so it went:

"Mulciber, Axel."

"Slytherin!"

"Newt, Jesebel."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Parker, Lucilia."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Pettigrew, Peter."

"Gryffindor!"

"Potter, James"

"Gryffindor!"

The hat, like in Sirius' sorting, had barely grazed James' head before it came to its decision. I knew that mine had taken a lot longer to decide and silently worried to myself that maybe I wasn't as good a Gryffindor as the others, but quickly dismissed the thought. There was no use in comparing myself to others, and surely having traits other than those valued by Gryffindors can't be a bad thing. No, it didn't matter, I thought, as there's nothing that I could do about it.

Sirius whooped with abandon as James sauntered over to our table and endured Sirius' back slaps with a happy, if slightly cocky, grin. Remus reached over the table to shake his hand in congratulations.

"Knew you'd join me, mate," cried Sirius in amidst the house's applause.

"Snape, Severus."

"Slytherin!"

I gave Lily's hand a soft squeeze of support as I watched her eyes sadly follow Severus to the other table, where he was greeted with handshakes and nods of welcome.

"Don't worry Lily," I whispered in her ear. "Being in different houses won't stop you from being friends."

Lily cast me an uncertain glance before looking back to where Severus now sat staring back at her. Lily sent him a helpless smile. "I certainly hope you're right," she murmured.

"Stewart, Murielle."

"Ravenclaw!"

"Trenture, Csybilo."

"Hufflepuff!"

"Varner, Grant."

"Slytherin!"

"Wood, Laura."

"Gryffindor."

And so began our lives at Hogwarts.


End file.
